Wednesday, June 6, 2001
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Wednesday, June 6, 2001 |
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Along a wistful highway By
SALLIE SATTERTHWAITE
Blue highways take you to the little towns that are the heart and soul of this country, and, at the risk of sounding country-Western, blue highways are often wistful highways. William Least Heat Moon named his memorable book of 20 or so years ago Blue Highways to celebrate the two-lane "back roads" usually colored blue on the state highway map. The interstates get you from point A to point B more quickly, of course, and opposed as I am to the paving of America, I do love the interstate system for its efficiency as well as for its broad, sweeping vistas. But the blue highways we travel most these days are the rivers of the Southeast. We got hooked on river barging in Europe, where waterways thread past villages humming quietly about their business of being community centers. Many provide docks and tie-ups as part of a park stretching along a river front just a few paces from the town center, giving boaters access to fresh groceries and locals access to a green retreat where they can walk or sit or just watch the river slide by with its waterborne traffic. Some of our best memories of France are of trudging up a flower-lined gravel path to a busy street with a boulangerie, a green grocer and a bakery. We learned the right way to say "Bonjour," not the flat greeting of high school French class, but a caroling "BOHN-zhoor!" that starts high in the head, as tenors like to explain the quality of their voices. Fresh-baked baguettes, some fromage blanche, a local vin, and we thought we were in heaven. Sadly, our attempts to replicate our European experience have left us feeling ... well, wistful. Don't misunderstand. For scenic beauty, the American rivers we've experienced hold their own with most that we enjoyed in Europe. (Well, all right, we have come around many a bend and sighed, "What a beautiful scene, but that little mountain would have a castle on it if we were in Germany.") But here, the towns often disappoint. Granted, cruising is an undiscovered recreation in America. Most of my countrymen see boats as merely a way to get to where the fish are, or to tow water-skiers back and forth across a lake. And for that very reason, the towns and marinas along the American waterways in our experience are geared up for fishermen or vacationers out on the water for a day. The few "grocery" stores we do find are stocked with Vienna sausage and corn chips and soft drinks. If we're really lucky, we'll find a convenience store within walking distance which for us is a mile or two, depending on the weather and how much we expect to have to carry. We've learned that asking someone at a marina to direct us to a food store within walking distance usually gets us a puzzled look or a flat denial that there's any food "within walking distance." I've come to the conclusion that the puzzled look means he can't imagine why anyone would want to mix grocery-shopping with a day on the water, and "walking distance" means the stretch from his kitchen door to the pickup truck in his carport. Rare is the American river town that provides a dock at all, much less within easy reach of downtown. It's the old "chicken-or-the-egg" conundrum: city fathers can't see spending a few thousand dollars to welcome rare river cruisers, and the number of river cruisers won't increase greatly as long as services are hard to come by. When we're low on supplies, we want a place with certain public amenities, and we're willing to pay for them: · A low dock with strong cleats to make fast to ... · Ideally, with a city water faucet within reach of our hose; · A walkway, not too steep, leading to a nearby street; · A grocery store bigger than a convenience store; · A drugstore or hardware store would be a real perk; · A clean laundromat, maybe next door to a good mom-and-pop diner. · A newspaper rack with something in it besides USA Today. · A public shower for trips in weather too cold for river baths heaven! Anything more would be icing on the cake. Noteworthy examples of such river hospitality are Chattanooga and Nashville, Tenn. and Columbus, Ga., where most of the above were available, plus beautiful waterfront parks and great restaurants. In the case of Chattanooga, add a first-rate aquarium and several museums and sculpture gardens. Next week we'll visit some small towns that offer river hospitality, and one that doesn't. ...
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